


A Toasty Incident

by Rinoaebastel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Complete, F/M, Romance, mmqt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinoaebastel/pseuds/Rinoaebastel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it came to Belle and Rumple, breakfast was rarely normal. So an unexpected vistor coming at an unexpected time, should've been expected. . .</p><p>Seventh in the Missing Moments Collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Belle admired the fluffy square of bread she held as she turned it, checking if all parts were equal in softness. After one turn, she concluded that the brown edge was the hardest part of the food.

She observed the rest of the squares she had scattered across the table and frowned. What had Rumplestiltskin done to make those soft pieces turn into crispy, tasty bread? He hadn't used magic, and even if he had, she possessed no such skills. She could've asked him, but she wanted the satisfaction of discovering it on her own.

She looked around the kitchen, trying to discover what she could toast the bread with. She saw the modernized oven and knew it would brown the bread, but it would take extra time. He'd done it in minutes; therefore, it wasn't the right gadget.

Her gaze fell onto a large rectangular box and she walked over to it, holding one slice of bread in each of her hands. Rumple had spent time in this area of the kitchen the previous morning. She looked down at the box, saw two holes, and ventured to put the slices of bread into it. She sank the teeth, which the object had at the end of its tail, into what Rumple called an electrical socket, before pressing the lever on the side of the box to make the bread go down into the contraption. She crouched and watched as its organs turned red. It appeared the toaster would end up immolating itself from within if it weren't for the bread taking the heat.

While that was doing its special kind of magic, she looked for a teapot and cups to make tea. When she found the objects she was seeking, she filled the kettle with water and put it on the fire circle thing on the stove to warm. She turned the knob on the "stove" to four, just as Rumplestiltskin told her to do.

She was proud to be useful and not a burden for the people who cared about her. But the most wonderful thing was that she was beginning to feel loved again. She had been forgotten, had felt dead, but now with the help and the support from Rumplestiltskin, she felt alive once more. She took a deep breath, expecting fresh air, but instead her nostrils caught the odor of burnt food.

She jerked around to look for the source of the smell and the smoke she'd just realized was there. When she saw it was coming from the thing of toasting, she ran towards it.

She clenched her teeth and took action. She grabbed a rag to pick up the slices so she wouldn't burn her skin, but when she tried to pull, the monster didn't release the bread from its jaws. With an exasperated growl, she threw the cloth aside, grabbed the toaster in her hands, and shook it. Black smoke spewed from its mouth and stained the curtains and tiles in its path. Seeing that her actions didn't work, she slammed the object on the marble countertop. As if it feared further violence, the beast spat the toasts, which were now dark as cinders.

She grabbed the toasts with the cloth, but they crumbled in her hands. She glared at the package of bread slices and reached out with the intention of strangling the plastic but instead took a deep breath.

They had not yet won the war, and she wouldn't give up without a fight.

-/-/-

Rumplestiltskin was half-asleep when he heard thumps and crashes coming from the floor below. He grunted and turned so he could hug his beloved closer, but when he reached out, he found an empty bed.

His body stiffened and his eyes shot open. He looked around for a sign of her presence; a sign that the past week hadn't been a dream his mind used to manipulate his feelings. He covered his face with his hands for a few seconds, trying to regain control of his emotions. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes; then, he heard a thud similar to the one that awakened him.

Belle was downstairs. He cracked a smile when he heard her make a frustrated sound. She was probably satisfying her curiosity with the things that were still new to her.

He moved his legs from their place under the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. He grabbed his cane, got to his feet, and felt the twinge in his knee: a pain little new to him. He reached down to massage his knee and looked at the clock before standing and making his way down the stairs.

He stopped at the half-opened kitchen door. With his free hand, he pushed it open and saw Belle. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and watched as she leaned on her arms, pressing against something on the wooden table. With each movement she made, a white powder flew into the air and then settled onto the furniture and floor.

Rumplestiltskin cocked his head and inched closer to see what she was doing. A smile appeared on his lips when he saw what she had under her hands. She stopped her movements and turned her face towards his, staring into his eyes without fear. Something very few could do.

"Bread, dear?" He leaned his cane against the table. He slid his hands across the delicate blue silk covering her stomach and twined his arms around her waist.

She growled and returned to kneading the bread. "It's much better than those slices."

"I don't deny that, but you don't have to bother doing these things. Belle, you're not a servant anymore." Rumplestiltskin rested his chin on her shoulder and watched as she continued torturing the dough.

"That bread is not good. And since I had to learn to do it in your castle, I won't waste my talent now." She punched the dough, the gesture making his chin bounce a couple of times against her shoulder.

He groaned with displeasure and settled his face at the curvature of her tempting neck. He inhaled her scent and figured something had happened while he was asleep to put her in such a state.

"Belle, what happened with the loaf of bread?"

She stopped her frenzied actions for a few seconds and muttered with a voice that reminded him of when she dropped their chipped cup, but not loud enough for him to make out her words. He frowned when she continued with her work, showing no intentions to speak in a way he could hear her.

"What did you-?" She turned around, interrupting his question and his comfortable position. He took a step back.

"I've burned it." She pointed to the toaster, which was now covered with black soot. "That creature with the fire intestines has charred all the bread. I tried to prepare breakfast. I don't know how to cook now with all these doohickeys."

He adored her when she got frustrated. The way she wrinkled her nose and the lilt of her voice was endearing. He laughed and she scolded him.

"Don't laugh. This is serious. I can't go around burning or smashing every object I attempt to work." She placed her hand on her hips and leveled her gaze at him.

"The last time you tried to work something it didn't break. The toaster is still intact."

"The shower attacked me though."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, delighting in the feel of skin under his lips. "It liked you," he said, teasing her.

Belle huffed and he grinned. He'd expected a retort but not the one she chose. She tossed a handful of flour at his face and giggled. Even though he hadn't expected it, he'd closed his eyes: a reflex action. Still laughing, Belle rushed forward and grabbed his face with her dough-covered hands.

Upon hearing her little laugh, Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes and couldn't help but mimic her smile as she spread her happiness to him. She contained her giggles and gave him a chaste kiss. He took her in his arms and rubbed his cheek against hers, sharing the white powder with which she marked him before.

"Belle," he said, growing serious for a moment. "I don't care if you burn or break everything. The thing that worries me most is that you'll hurt yourself in the process."

She placed her hands on either side of his neck, tangling her fingers in his now whitish hair. "I know there are many new things in this world and it will take me a while to adapt, but it's normal for me to take some scratches along the way." He grumbled and she continued her words. "Rumplestiltskin, I'm not made of crystal."

"There are many dangers in the world. Besides, you know that I . . . I couldn't bear to lose you again." He hugged her, ensuring his words and support. "I will make sure you're protected. I don't care if it's against a stupid shower or against a toaster. I will make sure things and people don't hurt you."

Belle let out a short laugh and kissed his cheek. "I don't know how much fear you'll exalt when you look like a snowy tree."

"Oh, what a charmer you are," he replied with feigned sarcasm while he stealthily prepared his next move. She widened her smile, unaware of his movement behind her. "You think it's more ridiculous that I'm covered in flour than with green skin?"

"You aren't ridiculous. You look adorable. Charming."

"Then you won't mind if I share the charm, right?" he whispered in her ear.

She turned her head, rubbing her cheek against his, and then sought a kiss. He smiled against her lips as he sprinkled the flour in his fist onto his beloved's hair.

When she noticed the small particles falling on her, she jerked away and hit his arm. His hand opened, letting the flour in his grasp fall all at once. "Rumplestiltskin!" She shook her hair with her hand to remove as much flour as possible while he let out a chuckle reminiscent of their time in the dark castle. "I just washed my hair too."

"Then you shouldn't have attacked first." He brought his lips to her neck, eliciting a moan from her. She laughed as he guided her to the wooden table.

"You're an opportunist. You shouldn't have been in here until I finished breakfast."

"And miss being able to enjoy this? I think not."

"But it was you who said we would have time for everything." She undid the top buttons of his red pajama shirt. "I assumed it meant this as well."

He smirked and placed his hands on her hips. "So that means I have to ignore you?"

"I would be offended if you did."

She attacked his lips and he accepted the kiss as he turned their bodies. With his arm, he raked the flour and dough off the table and onto the clean floor, causing puffs of flour to ascend into the air.

She hopped upon the table as soon as the dough hit the floor and grabbed the hem of his unbuttoned shirt to bring him closer. He smirked and pressed himself against her. When her fingers stroked the bare skin of his chest, he could not keep a dull groan quenched inside his throat any longer.

He caught her lips with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding herself against him as he pushed her to rest flat on the flour-covered table. Her chest heaved from the effects of a small laugh as he slid his lips over her collarbone.

"We're going to end up looking like two sheep," she muttered, then moaned as he bit her skin. He raised his head and with the tip of his finger, stroked the edge of her chin.

"Are you uncomfortable with this?" He would stop if she asked.

"Not at all." She wrapped her legs around his hips, making her nightgown expose more of her upper thighs. The view was modest but more than anyone else would ever see. Those parts of her body were only for his eyes.

As his hands moved up her legs, his mind unhinged desires and feelings he still wasn't accustomed to after all these years alone. She arched her body against his, surrendering to the sensations invading her. "Rumplestiltskin…I…"

A knock against the kitchen door invaded the room. They froze and turned their heads toward the door to see who would be calling on them so early in the morning, but the dark red curtains blocked their view.

"H-hello? Belle?" Her eyes widened, shocked to hear that particular voice.

"It-It's me. I'm not sure if I should have come but . . . Um . . . Here I am."

"By the gods," she whispered. Rumplestiltskin shrugged and, after kissing his astonished lady, withdrew his body from its position atop hers. He reached out his hand to help her sit up, and then picked up his cane. She buttoned his shirt and hopped off the table to fix her nightgown so it better covered her. She grabbed a silk robe, which he'd just noticed draped over one of the chairs, and slipped it over her shoulders. It too was covered in flour, making quite a funny sight and doing little good to hide the results of their playfulness.

She tried to groom her disheveled hair, but a coating of flour remained no matter how much she shook the tresses.

Belle walked to the door, with her chin rose as if she was dressed for a ball, and placed her hand on the doorknob. He lowered his head so he could hide a smile.

This was going to be interesting.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it came to Belle and Rumple, breakfast was rarely normal. So an unexpected vistor coming at an unexpected time, should've been expected. . .

The man standing in front of the door fidgeted when he heard footsteps approaching, the hand that held a small bouquet of orchids coated with sweat, and his legs shook even though he tried to force them not to. Being in front of the door to that house didn't bring him happy memories—but that was his own fault. He should've never listened to that waited for what seemed like the longest thirty seconds of his life before the door opened. His wait was worth it.

"Father?" She peeked timidly through the small crack in the door. He held up the flowers and she smiled before opening the door wider and taking the flowers.

"Oh! Th—thanks—" she hastened to say as she opened the door further to reveal the cave she shared with the imp. He raised an eyebrow to, but didn't say anything about, her appearance. She cleared her throat and, avoiding his gaze, stepped aside to invite him in. Her behavior was bizarre, but that was normal for his daughter. He just wondered if Gold accepted it or tried to push it back. He'd made the mistake of trying to change her and lost her for a time—too long a time for his liking.

He entered the house and attempted to ignore the fact that his daughter was covered in flour. Gold was standing next to the table; he too was covered with the white substance. What in the hell had he interrupted?

"Mister French. What a surprise to see you here," he said. Even covered in flour with his cane, also coated white, the man was still intimidating. He mustered the courage to look at his face, seeing a mischievous glistening in his eyes and a slight smile perched upon his lips.

"Rum… Mister Gold. . . I didn't… I thought you'd be at your shop."

"It's your daughter's fault. She has the power to keep me here longer than I plan for." Gold spoke with a tone that made him very uncomfortable.

"Rumplestiltskin," Belle scolded, her cheeks flushing before she turned and approached the man in pajamas. He noticed how his daughter didn't hesitate to approach or look up at Gold.

Something had happened, and the old nobleman's eyes narrowed in suspicion for just a moment before he forced them back to normal so Gold wouldn't notice. Although he was still attempting to digest their relationship, he wasn't going to let the dark one dishonor or do something vile to his daughter.

"Ignore him. He hasn't had his breakfast yet so he's being facetious."

"It's just that I get grumpy when I don't have your delicious children stews. Do I need to acquire another baby to get that delicacy again?"

Maurice jumped when she hit Gold with her hand. The look he gave her, definitely not a look of hate, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight.

"Stop trying to scare him with your morbid sense of humor," she said.

"If that's your desire," he said. He made a small circling gesture with his hands and lowered his body half way in a bow.

She laughed. When he straightened, she turned him to the kitchen door. "Go change. I'll prepare tea and some breakfast in the meantime."

"You're sure?" he asked, his eyes becoming serious. Maurice could hear the distrust in Gold's voice and it angered him. If anyone was to be distrusted, it was the Dark One.

"Yes, go. I'll be fine," she whispered. Maurice barely heard what she spoke.

Gold nodded, and after a quick glance towards him, left the kitchen.

Maurice relaxed and watched as Belle walked over to the cabinets and took out a tea set that was inside. "Well, how have you been?"

At his words, she showed a smile. "Not too bad considering that I destroy or make a mess of everything I touch."

He took a couple of steps toward the table and motioned to it. "Is this your doing?" She avoided his gaze. "Or was it his? Belle, if he got violent with you we can find a way to—"

"No!" She turned to him, her face the same shade as a ripe tomato. "I was making bread because I can't run the toasting machine and at the end everything fell to the floor."

"You've always been a clumsy girl but not this much."

She cleared her throat and removed the whistling pot from the stove. Her hands trembled as she picked up the pot.

The man frowned and walked over to his daughter. He didn't want to imagine what Gold had been doing to her before he showed up. But the evidence was clear. The dough on the ground, the flour that coated them and how much time they'd taken to open up the door. . . Yes, it all added up. It all pointed to a fight. And he doubted someone like Gold would get into something as childish as a mere flour fight. It was more serious. Had to be.

But he had to consider her personality as well. Belle would've fought and they'd been far more noise if violence was occurring. Belle wouldn't have done anything that she didn't want to do and she seemed to have the odd power to handle him. But he had magic and could subject any person to anything he desired.

But she didn't seem unhappy at all, and the glistening in her eyes, the love she held when she looked at Gold, went against everything he was thinking. Well everything except one thing that he'd rather not think about. She was a pure girl. . . He hoped.

Maurice swallowed hard. He knew better than to ask, but his concern was justified. It was times like this that he wished her mother were there, even though he always missed her of course. Now, the duty to question the issue fell to him. He took a deep breath as he watched Belle pouring the boiling water into one of the cups.

He approached her then stopped to stand at her side. "Belle, when I came. Did I interrupt something?"

"N-n no, nothing. We were just making ou—bread. We were making bread."

Maurice noticed his daughter's mistake and shuddered. So it was something more . . . more. . . He shuddered again. His cheeks turned red. "Was he forcing you to have—Was he—you . . . Do you still have your innocence?"

She jerked the teapot in surprise, knocking over one of the cups on the counter. Maurice yelped when the hot tea hit his leg, easily sinking through the fabric and burning his skin without pity.

"Father, don't ask me something like that!"

Her tone was answer enough, and he nearly lurched at the thought of her and Gold doing . . . that. Oh how he regretted asking her, but duty as a father was more important that the state of his nausea. "When? Were you forced at the castle?"

"Of course not!" Her already blush-stained cheeks, darkened.

"I worried that he took you against your will. Any father would care about that," he said.

She sighed. "It was in this world, and I gave myself willingly." He tried to keep calm at her revelation. She couldn't even imagine the trauma going on in his brain. "He never made so much as an attempt here or the dark castle. He's always been a gentleman."

"Where's your head Belle? Could you not leave those activities for a proper time? Or better yet, don't have them?" he said, despite knowing it was a very unreasonable request.

"Father, please. I'm old enough to make my own decisions regarding sex."

Gah, she said the S word. "But he's—"

"If I decide to be with him, give my life and my soul, it will be always my decision. He never forced anything." She huffed in what sounded like frustration and then rolled her eyes. "Never ever forced. Sometimes he even asks permission to hug me."

It was hard to believe that the dark one had a true, caring, emotional side with his daughter. Could he trust her life to the one who snatched her away in a deal? "He respects you?" She nodded. "But you aren't even engaged and you two…" His words came out with a whine that he thought he was going to hold back.

"Would you give us your blessing if we got engaged?" she asked.

Maurice sighed again; it felt like he'd been doing a lot of lately. "I'm sorry Belle. It's just that I'm still not convinced that he's treating you well. All I know is the evil he's done. Everyone in town knows how evil he really is. The rumors about you are spreading all over town."

"It's no one else's business, and I'm not going to explain my feelings for him again. I don't own anyone an explanation, but I gave you one because you're my father. If you can't remember the stuff I told you the first time, can't believe it, then I don't know why you're here."

Maurice raised his hands in apology. It was clear from the first time she defended him that nothing would change her mind. His daughter was too stubborn. Still, she couldn't expect him not to think about the rumors about the dark one. Stolen children, dishonorable killings, people turned into animals. His magic was terribly powerful and dangerous.

He had come here in an attempt to reconcile, to know more about what actually happened, and if he weren't careful, his efforts would be in vain. To have a relationship with his daughter, he had to try to ignore the rumors and learn for himself why she was so attached to the dark one.

"Is there somewhere I can clean this stain off?" Belle's eyes lost their spark of anger and she nodded.

"There's a bathroom to the left of the stairs."

Maurice made his way to where his daughter directed.

-/-/-

After cleaning the stain, and drying it with a towel, he heard footsteps descending the stairs along with the clank of a cane with each step. Maurice opened the door a crack before stopping when he heard Gold speak. "Are you sure about this? I can throw him out with a snap of my fingers if you aren't ready."

"It surprised me that he showed up, but I'm fine," she said.

"No you aren't."

He peered out of the crack in the door and watched as Gold pulled Belle into his arms. "I wish he could see what I do," she said. "I know you've done bad things but you're not all bad." Maurice's heart broke at hearing the anguish in his daughter's voice. Gold leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"Not everyone is like you love. I'm a monster, and I'm hard to accept."

"You aren't a monster," she said and looked up at him. "And I know that but—"

"In time I'll prove it to your father I suppose." He leaned in and grinned. "You have to remember that in his eyes I stole you. Any parent would be wary of a suitor that did that. And I'm in evil Rumplestiltskin." He raised his voice, grinned, and finished his sentence with, "my dearie."

"He should trust my word."

"He's listening at least," he said and rested his head on top of hers. "I know this is important to you, and if he rejects you, you won't be completely happy. But Belle, if he hurts you again, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from killing him. So if I were to do something to hurt you in any way, you know you're free to go and I won't keep you against your will."

Maurice was floored. He thought Gold's possessiveness was limitless yet he valued her feelings more than his own. Enough to let her go if she was unhappy.

Unlike him.

He'd been blind. He hadn't stopped to think about what she wanted but what he felt and wanted.

"Stop being self-depreciating," Belle said. "I'm not leaving. Ever." She moved her head and rested it against his chest as if he was a harmless teddy bear.

"I'd rather see you happy from afar, than see you unhappy with me."

He couldn't believe what he saw, and reached up to wipe his eyes to make sure it wasn't some illusion. Gold looked at her with the same look Belle's mother often gave him so long ago. He never thought he'd ever seen such a look emerge from anyone ever again. It didn't look like he was using magic to keep her. For the first time in his life, he felt ashamed. He'd been wrong.

His fatherly instincts kicked in once again when she pulled away and Gold leaked down to kiss her rather roughly. If she hadn't wound her arms around his neck, and returned the kiss, he would've jumped out at the two. He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, grasping for control.

"Why don't you go into the living room and wait," she said when they pulled away. "I'll bring the tea in there." He dusted the specks of flour off his suit and walked into the living room. Maurice noticed the man cringed as he sat down on the couch. When his hand moved to his knee and massaged it a few times, Maurice realized Rumplestiltskin never limped in their world.

Maurice hid his face in his hands and waited several minutes. This was becoming confusing. Why'd his daughter have to choose him as a suitor? Why couldn't she have settled with Gaston? Everything would have been easier.

The past didn't matter though. He didn't have a choice but to accept her choice. If he rejected her again, he knew there would be no option for reconciliation. If he supported her she would be happy, but their family would fall into disgrace. No, their village would. But he didn't rule a village anymore. He just had his daughter.

He waited for Belle to enter the living room before he left the bathroom. He entered the room and saw her sit down beside Gold. He took the seat across from them. She handed him a cup of tea and he looked down at the plate where several black squares sat.

"What's that?"

"Apparently it's square shaped coal," Rumplestiltskin joked. "I remember these from the dark castle though I believe they were shaped quite differently."

Maurice actually found himself holding back a laugh.

Belle gave Gold a reproachful look. "Sorry love," he said and took a sip of his tea.

"If I remember correctly, you ate that coal back at the castle."

He shrugged. "I meant to hide them in the mines but you kept your eyes on me too closely."

"Okay, I get it. I got better in the dark castle though, and I'll get better here once I figure out how to use the stupid electric magic things."

Maurice picked up the square and turned it around in his hand. "Then this is…"

"Toast," she muttered. "They're just well done. They probably don't taste bad."

He lifted the toast to his lips and took a bite, just not to disappoint his daughter. He looked over at Gold who had done the same thing. As a bitter taste, invaded his tongue he couldn't keep a grimace off his face. Gold had no such expression.

"Okay, I guess they aren't good after all," she said sheepishly.

"You'll adapt Belle. It's not that hard," Maurice said and took a big gulp of tea to wash down the bitterness.

"When she first came to the castle and I ate her cooking for the first time, I thought she was trying to poison me," Gold said and took her hand.

She pouted. "If it was so bad then why'd you eat it? You didn't even say anything bad about it. You were blunt about everything else."

"I was hungry and too lazy to cook."

She elbowed him gently. "You could've used magic."

Gold raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckles. "I can be lazy in magic too dearie."

Maurice was amazed at the affectionate, gentle gesture. This entire morning had been full of shocking realizations. It was as if he'd gone into the dragon's den and discovered there was no dragon. There was nothing he had to save his daughter from.

"Gold," Maurice said. He put his cup down on the table. He had to think about what he was going to let happen. He couldn't fully trust or accept him right now. But he'd try to work on it. He stood. "Take care of Belle."

Gold nodded and tears came to Belle's eyes. "Father. Thank you."

"We… I still have some things I want to talk to you about so… I hope to come back another day? When I don't have work?" He was relieved when she nodded happily, stood, and walked him to the door.

She watched her father leave the house and walk down the sidewalk. He was looking down at his feet, which she knew was a sign he was deep in thought. She jumped slightly when Rumplestiltskin slipped his arms around her. "He still doubts."

"You can't change someone in a day Belle, and remember I'm not blameless."

"He's not blameless either."

"He'll come around. The fact he came here proved that."

She trembled as his hand slipped under her robe and across the silk at her stomach. Rumple was right and she'd be grateful to have her father back in her life. She'd made it clear that she would always be beside Rum, and her father would have to accept that. No matter what, she'd always find a way to be with him.

He lifted a hand to close the door and she turned in his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned up and kissed his chin. "Do you have to go into work today?"

"That depends. What did you have in mind to keep me home?"

She played with the collar of his shirt with one hand and his tie with the other. All the girls in the novels she read did this to men wearing suits. Usually right before they made love with said man. "I thought we could go upstairs and continue baking bread."

He laughed, kissed her nose, and led her upstairs to bake.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hope you enjoyed it and if you have time leave your toughts here. 
> 
> This fic was totally inspired by the movie: Marilyn Hotchkiss. He just killed me in feelings with that movie ^_^


End file.
